He Becomes His Hand
by MusicMajor22
Summary: One of two possibilities that popped into my head based on the sneak peek and promo about Killian regaining his hand, and the price that comes with it. One-Shot


_A/N: Hello, readers! For those of you keeping up with my Home is Where the Heart Is fic, don't worry, I am already partly through the next chapter. But, the sneak peek and promos for 4x04 had me thinking of two possible scenarios for the episode in regards to Hook's hand. The other one will hopefully be up before the episode airs (I wanted to make sure that they were both up before the episode is on). As always, I love the comments! _

"I have a date tonight with Emma. If all goes well, and she wants me to hold her, I'd like to be able to do it with both hands," Killian explained to Mr. Gold. He knew he was treading on thin ice with the Crocodile, but he wanted everything to be perfect for tonight. Emma was the world to him, and he wanted to be the man she deserved to have. He was barely even registering what Gold was saying to him. Something about his hand being from the man he used to be, and how it could change him back to the pirate he was before. He didn't care. He could never return to the man he was, Emma had changed him irrevocably, he was sure of it.

"Just re-attach it, or so help me, Belle will know everything." Killian was losing his patience. Gold smirked to himself for a moment, before turning it into a sneer.

"If you wish it. But, remember, all magic comes with a price." Killian just nodded in response. Gold waved his arm, and in a puff of purple smoke, a hand appeared from beneath Killian's left coat cuff.

"Thank you," Killian said, with a small degree of sincerity. He didn't like resorting to blackmail, but he would do anything for Emma.

"Do not thank me, _pirate_, not yet." And Gold left the main room and disappeared to the back.

Killian flexed his wrist back and forth, and ran his hand up and down the sleeves of his jacket, the smoothness of the counter, seeing how sensitive it was. He hissed slightly as the reddened and raw knuckles of his newly attached appendage brushed against the roughness of his pants. He tried to remember how it had come to be injured, but it was so long ago, and it quite honestly didn't matter. No amount of pain would keep him from using that hand to do whatever his Swan desired. He pocketed his now useless hook, just as a reminder, and, with a smile, left the shop.

Emma opened the door and Killian was shocked at what he saw. His Emma was dressed in a light pink dress, her hair pulled back, her face looking stunning.

"Emma," he greeted, his breath stolen from him. She gave him a coy little smile, blushing slightly at his brief speechlessness. She ran her own eyes up and down the man, taking in his new outfit. Killian cleared his throat.

"Emma, you look stunning." She backed up a few feet so he could walk in a few steps.

"You look pretty handsome yourself," she answered, whole-heartedly. The pair didn't even notice the audience gathering in the kitchen watching the whole interaction. Mary Margaret held Neal tightly, a large, knowing grin spreading across her face. Elsa looked pensive, but happy for her new friends. David stood with his arms crossed, trying to look stern, but proud of his daughter for finally allowing herself to live in a good moment.

"Are you ready to go?" Emma asked, reaching for her clutch. Killian fidgeted for a second.

"Not quite yet. I brought you something."

"You did?" Emma was intrigued.

"Well, it's been a long time since I've courted a woman of your caliber, darling, and, if I remember right, a gentleman should always bring his lady flowers." He gave her the smile that could melt her heart and pulled from behind his back a single, long-stemmed red rose, held carefully in his left hand. At first, all Emma noticed was the rose. While it was customary, even cliché, for a man to bring his date flowers, the fact that Killian had done it touched her. He extended his arm as she reached to take it from him, and her eyes then caught the patch of skin on his wrist, now uncovered by his sleeve, a thin, angry red scar running across it.

"Killian…?" she began, uncertain. He began to grin.

"Yes, love?"

"Is, is that your hand?" The audience in the kitchen all matched one another with their astonished looks.

"Aye. Do you like it?" He looked down at the floor, hoping that she would approve. She blinked and shook her head quickly as if trying to gather her thoughts.

"Of course I do. It's just, what am I supposed to call you now? Captain Hand?" Killian laughed as he fully stepped into the room.

He exchanged pleasantries with the others in the loft before placing his hand on Emma's back (oh how wonderful that felt) and leading her out to begin their date.

Dinner had gone wonderfully, and Killian could not believe how lucky he was. Emma was perfect. She was the sun and moon, and everything in between. She was _home_. He felt quite certain that she would end up accompanying him back to his room at Granny's, though he was not entirely sure that he wanted to ravish her on their first date. But if she wanted to come back with him, even spend the night, he would relish in it, but nothing more would happen. He knew he had to go slow with her if he wanted this relationship to be more than a quick one-night love affair. They were currently walking, hands entwined, enjoying the quietness of the evening.

"Do you want to stop for a quick drink?" Emma asked, gesturing to the Rabbit Hole.

"Well, you know, love, I never turn down the chance for a spot of rum." He pressed a kiss to her head and led her inside.

The Rabbit Hole was warm and crowded, but Emma was able to navigate her way to a table while Killian grabbed the drinks. He returned and they spent some time just talking and enjoying each other's company.

"Well, if it isn't the Sheriff," a man's voice drunkenly called out. Emma and Killian stopped their conversation to see the thief Emma had seen in the forest come staggering towards them.

"Enjoying drinks tonight, are we," the man taunted again, swaying in his spot.

"Emma, do you know this man?" Killian asked, starting to feel an unfamiliar anger burn inside him. Emma leaned forward towards Killian's ear.

"David and I ran into him in the forest. He is an ex-Merry Man. He was stealing from tents before he got away," she explained. She took his hand in hers in what she hoped was a reassurance of her affections for him.

"Secrets make enemies, Sheriff," Will Scarlet jeered at her attempt to quietly fill Killian in. He started to pace in his drunken stupor. "What I want to know, Sheriff Swan, is why you chased me in an attempt to capture me, when you are willingly spending time with a much more widely known _pirate_." Killian made to stand up, his face growing red, but Emma's hand on his thigh stayed him.

"Killian," she warned, and he relaxed just a fraction more.

"Mr. Scarlet, if you don't want to be taken into the station for public lewdness, I suggest you leave," Emma said, hardness evident in her voice. Instead of leaving, he leaned over, his mouth close to her ear.

"Or, you can ditch this thieving scum here, and join me for some real fun," he tried to whisper, but it came out loudly. Killian jumped up from his chair, anger flashing in his eyes. Emma stood up too, pushing Will away. Without looking, she extended an arm to block Killian from getting close to the drunk man.

"I suggest," she began, her voice quiet, but dripping with poison, "that you go place your drink on the bar and leave, before I make your time here in Storybrooke a living hell." She knew there wasn't a ton she could do to make him suffer, but, he was ruining the date that had been going so well. She only hoped he would be so wasted that he wouldn't question her authority. Brief recognition of what she said registered in his eyes, and he bowed his head.

"My apologies, Sheriff," he said, sobering for just a moment. "I'll be doing just that." He turned towards the bar, waiting from a throng of people to move out of his path. Emma squeezed Killian's hand before letting go, letting him know that she was his. She walked the two steps over to him and kissed him.

"Should we head back to your place?" she asked seductively.

"Aye," he answered, reaching across the table to grab her clutch for her. In that moment, Will Scarlet attempted to make his way to the bar and was accidentally run into by Leroy. Will staggered backward in his current imbalance, spilling his drink all over the front of Emma's dress.

Before Emma could do anything, Killian threw her clutch back on the table and marched over to Will, punching him squarely in the face.

"How do you get off being careless and soaking Miss Swan with drink?! Apologize to her!" Killian was furious, even though deep down he knew he shouldn't be. Accidents happen, and being a former, and well, sometimes current drunk himself, he should be more sympathetic to the man's mistake.

"Calm down, Hook," Leroy interrupted, placing his arm on Will's shoulder, leading him to sit on a stool. "It was my fault. I ran into him, so leave him alone." Instead of accepting Leroy's explanation, Killian couldn't contain the unknown anger boiling inside him. It was vaguely familiar, almost a memory of a man he had once been centuries ago. Killian stepped forward and shoved Leroy against the bar. Leroy, his eyes also slightly glazed over, attempted a swing at Killian, but missed by a wide margin. Killian, however, not being compromised by mass amounts of alcohol, didn't miss his mark, and Leroy ended up on the floor, blood pouring out of his nose.

"Killian!" Emma yelled, grabbing his arm, attempting to pull him back. For a brief moment, the pirate within him shrugged her arm and pushed her away, and he grabbed a hold of Leroy's collar.

"Sister, aren't you going to take him in? I want to press charges. No one punches a dwarf and gets away with it," Leroy complained. Killian pulled Leroy up and slammed him hard against the counter.

"Watch it, _mate_, or the next thing you'll see is a bottle being smashed over your head."

"Killian," Emma attempted again, reaching out for him.

"No!" he answered. "This man is the reason you're drenched, and now he wants me to go to the brig? No one tells Captain Jones what to do." And Killian, still grasping Leroy by the collar, began shaking him, jostling him continuously against the bar.

Emma knew she didn't have a choice. She didn't know what was happening, but this man, this pirate, in front of her, wasn't Killian. She had to sort it out, figure out what snapped. She closed her eyes and let her anger and frustration with Killian fuel and control her magic this time. She concentrated on the station, and when she opened her eyes, in a puff of dark smoke, a pair of handcuffs appeared in her hand. She knew she should be careful when allowing anger and hatred spur her magic, but right now, she couldn't care less. She steeled herself, willing her eyes to stay dry.

"Killian Jones," the use of his full name caught his attention and his grip on Leroy slackened. He felt thin, but strong arms, pull his own roughly behind his back, metal shackles being placed none-too-gently around his wrists.

"You are being arrested for assault…" Emma continued her spiel, a lecture she never thought she would have to use on him. His face still red, still breathing hard, he lowered his head, and allowed himself to be pushed towards the door.

They made their walk to the station in silence. Emma, too angry with Killian to speak to him, Killian too filled with darkness he had long since forgotten to think clearly and apologize. Once inside, she opened a cell door, removed the handcuffs, and shoved him inside, locking the door and placing all the possible cell keys in her clutch. He stood at the bars, his hands grasping at them desperately.

"Swan!" he called out. She turned and looked at him, tears now threatening to fall. His gaze looked different, unlike him, and a small part of her feared the look behind his eyes.

"Don't," is all she said, quietly, before turning out the lights and leaving him behind.

Killian spent the whole night awake, attempting to quell the storming in his gut. It was when he was overcome with another wave of anger and punched the wall, did he wince at the rawness of his left knuckles, and realization dawned across his face. His hand. He recalled the warning the Crocodile had given him. Was that why he lost his cool? It had to be. He understood now. He had reverted back to the pirate he had once been. The man before would have, no doubt, caused a large bar fight for something small. He would have unkindly pushed a woman back away from him. Killian Jones, would not have done those things. He believed in good form, manners, Emma. At the thought of Emma, he began to regain control of himself. The anger, the fury, the temper, chilled, and shame and guilt took him over. He had a lot of explaining to do.

Emma came into the loft to find her parents sitting on the couch, partly dozing. For a brief moment, Emma smiled, thinking of finally having a mom and dad to stay up until she got home. At the sound of the door closing and locking, they stirred.

"Emma?" Her mother called out softly, as Emma slid out of her shoes. "Is that you?"

"Yeah," she said simply, willing her voice not to tremble. She hoped they would just remain on the couch so she could walk around and up the stairs to her room without being observed. That, however, would not happen. Mary Margaret and David stood up, David's arm around his wife's shoulder. Mary Margaret knew something was not right with her daughter, seeing her eyes try to prevent the tears sitting at their surface. She let out a nervous chuckle.

"We weren't even going to stay up tonight. I thought for sure you would have ended up at Killian's tonight, but your father insisted we wait for you. Where is Killian?" And the tears began to fall.

"At the station," was all she could get out. Her mother and father came forward and enveloped her in their arms as she shook with cries.

"What happened?" David asked when he finally let her go and they led her to the couch. Emma recounted all that had happened, hoping that her parents, full of unrelenting hope and optimism, would shine some light on the situation.

"I think," Mary Margaret began, "that we all need to get some sleep. Things always seem worse at night. When it's morning, maybe it will all make sense. But, Emma, he does love you. I know he does. There has to be a reason, and we'll find it." She squeezed her daughter's shoulder and planted a kiss to her forehead, bidding her a goodnight.

"And," David stepped forward, "if there isn't a logical explanation, then he will have to answer to me." Emma gave a small laugh, knowing full well that her father would probably seriously injure, if not kill Killian for hurting her.

"Goodnight, Dad," she said.

The next morning, Emma awoke early, and got dressed. She didn't bother with makeup, or dressing up, and with having very little sleep, she looked a mess. She drove over to the station to check up on her inmate.

She quietly entered the station and could see Killian's form lying on the cot. He was thrashing wildly, sweat plastered on his forehead, clearly in the middle of a nightmare.

"No…," he groaned. "Emma…". She froze. She wanted to reach out for him, but she couldn't just forget what happened the night before. She slammed the door closed behind her, waking Killian from his restless sleep. She pulled the keys from her purse and walked to stand in front of the cell door. He rubbed his hand down his face and sat up, looking like he had lived nothing but misery his entire time on the Earth.

"What the hell was that last night?" she asked, cutting to the important matter at hand. "What were you thinking?" Hook looked down at his hands.

"Emma, love…"

"No! Don't even, Killian. What happened to you? We were having a good time, at least I thought we were." He raised his head to look at her, and she was surprised to see that his eyes were glassy.

"We were, love. Easily one of the best nights of my life," he whispered. She opened the cell door and moved to sit next to him on the cot.

"Then what happened? Why did you feel the need to punch Will, and then Leroy?" She laced her fingers through his. "That was not the Killian I know, that was more like, like…"

"Captain Hook," he finished for her. He lifted his left hand. "This," he said, looking at her. She took his hand, inspecting it.

"What about it?" she asked.

"I went to visit Gold, hoping to restore my hand and found that he had kept it all these years. He warned me that it might revert me back to the man I had once been, the man I was when he took it from me. I thought he was playing mind games with me so that I would back out. I didn't realize that it would be true. I was so angry last night, I just lashed out. And I was rude to you. For that, I will never be able to express my regrets enough."

"Why?" Emma questioned, still looking at his hand. "Why take that risk?" He looked down once more.

"You," he answered simply. At her quizzical look, he elaborated. "You deserve a whole man, a man who can hold you whenever you want, who can kiss you passionately without worrying about injuring you. To me, that was worth it. _You_ were worth it."

"Killian," she lifted his chin with her hand. "I don't care if you have a hook for a hand. That is the man I was falling for. The one who never stopped fighting for me, never shoved me aside, never pushed me out. I would rather have a one-handed man with a slight drinking problem, than a two handed pirate with a drinking problem." She rested her head on his shoulder.

"Emma?" She looked up at him. "You need to remove my hand."

"What?" she spluttered. He looked intensely at her.

"I don't want Gold to do it. You're the reason I did this, and you're the reason now that this has to be done. I don't want to ever hurt you. You can do this. If his magic could re-attach it, your magic should be able to sever it." She looked at him uncertainly.

"What if I hurt you?" She was getting better at magic, but she didn't want to take that risk.

"Darling, I've already hurt myself, hurt us. Nothing you do could be worse than that. I know you can do this." Emma still looked unsure.

"You're positive about this?" Killian took a deep breath and kissed her with as much passion as he could muster, both his hands roaming her hair, her body, her face, wanting her to be the last thing his hand felt. When they finally broke apart, Emma closed her eyes and concentrated. She felt her love for Killian surge through her, and only when she heard a thud and a sharp cry did she open her eyes once more. Killian's right hand was currently rubbing the newly red stump of his left hand. He gave her a small, sad smile, and from within his coat pocket, pulled out his hook and brace.

"Here, let me," Emma offered quietly. For the first time in his life, he allowed another person to help him attach his brace. It stung across the newly stretched skin and he had to bite his lip from crying out. When the brace and stump cover were attached, Emma pressed her lips softly against the stump.

"You know, Killian, you don't have to always wear the hook. You don't have to be embarrassed by this."

"I know," he said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "But I'm not there yet." He twisted his hook into place and teasingly tossed a lock of Emma's hair with it, giving her a smile.

"Feeling better?" Emma asked, seeing the hardness that had been clear in his eyes the night before, totally disappear.

"Aye," he answered. "Swan?"

"Yes?" He looked at her with pure sincerity.

"Can we have another try at our date?" She kissed him gently.

"I thought you'd never ask. Killian, you are so much more than your hand. Your hand is not what defines you." They sat together in each other's company most of the afternoon.

A week later, Killian walked back into Gold's shop, where Gold stared at him with hatred in his eyes.

"And to what do I owe this pleasure," Gold asked slyly. Killian subtly adjusted his jacket, revealing the newly regained hook.

"Ah, I see that your date must not have gone according to plan. And how, may I ask, did you manage to replace your hook?"

"Emma did it," Killian answered.

"Well, if Miss Swan removed your hand and replaced your hook, I am confused as to what more you could possibly ask of me." Gold was growing tired of the blackmail.

"I'm here for two reasons. One, I wanted to tell you that I am no longer going to figuratively hold the dagger over you. I argued that you had not changed, but, after returning to being my old self the other night, I realized that blackmailing you was something that that man would do. I told you I changed, and so I need to hold true to that. I will no longer mention the dagger, or your secret, to your bride." Gold simply nodded in response.

"And the other reason?" Gold asked, curious.

"I want to buy something special for Emma."


End file.
